Chaos in Crystal
by WriteOnForever
Summary: After defeating the Reach, the Team struggles to cope. When Bart, Jaime, Garfield, and Barabara stumble across a new hero and enemy, however, old wounds and new battles face them. Written for, and under the direction of, Nobel Six.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Nothing.

Prologue

This wasn't supposed to happen to guys like him.

Peter Lewis was a mild-mannered man in his early thirties who spent his life studying myths. It was a rewarding job, though one that few people actually took seriously, but that was another perk: he was never in any danger. Who would target a mythologist?

Yet there he was, sitting in a dark room with one bare, flickering light above his head, hands chained behind his back and legs shackled to the floor. He'd been kidnapped in the middle of the night, shoved into the back of a truck, and brought into this mysterious, foreboding place.

From the opposite side of the room, a metallic door opened, and a figure maneuvered through the shadows. "Welcome, my friend," it greeted, voice deep and raspy. "I am honored to meet you."

A minor in psychology told Peter to play along with the game, to avoid upsetting his enemy. "As am I," he managed in spite of a dry throat and chattering teeth, "though I would be interested in why I am here."

"For your profession, of course. An expert in your field, I assume you know quite a bit about the ancient stories of the globe." The other was surprisingly calm, as though this arrangement was the most normal in the world, and Peter forced himself to adopt that same mentality.

"I suppose you could say that."

"So what do you know about the Emeralds of Egypt?"

Peter blinked—few people knew about the emeralds. "They were gifts from the Egyptian gods to the first Pharaoh. There were fourteen of them, and they were supposed to bring unlimited power to him. He misused them, though, ravaged the land and left his people to die, so they were retaken by the gods' prophets on earth, hidden far from mere mortals. They were guarded by generation after generation of prophets until the age of discovery, when they spread them across the world, two per continent."

"I already knew that. What I don't know is, where would they be? Specifically, in _this _continent?"

"Uh, well, that's hard to pinpoint exactly…"

A shrill, horrible screeching filled the room. "For your sake, I would figure it out," the man hissed, all courtesy drained away.

Peter squinted, struggling to get a glimpse of his assailant but seeing nothing but a faint figure in the dark. "The prophets have become cult-like, in a way, in Egypt, dismissed as a fable, but they exist, shifting the emeralds every so often, so, they, they would have changed locations several times over, to keep them safe. They like to keep them in populated places, cultural landmarks, where the hustle and bustle would mask the power emanating from the emerald. If, if I had to guess, I'd say New York City."

"Care to narrow it down?" There was an edge to his words, and the screech followed, louder than before.

"St-Statue of Liberty?" It was a guess—a well-based guess, but a guess nonetheless. "The emeralds were g-given to bring peace and prosperity to the land, to ensure the safety of all. If the emerald were anywhere, it would be there."

Silence followed, and Peter shifted uncomfortably, contemplating how much leeway those shackles gave him. Half a foot, at the most. That would not be beneficial at all.

"I will check that immediately. Have you no other idea for the emerald's location?"

"No. If you happened to have another emerald, you could search that way; they're attracted to one another. Even in the busiest of areas, they will find each other. Pieces to a whole."

"Very good. Considering I have thirteen of them, that should prove most helpful."

"You have thirteen?" Peter gasped. "They're real? How—?

"That is not of your concern," the man quickly interrupted. "You have proved yourself useful. That, unfortunately, is quite a shame for you."

From the darkness emerged a bear of a man, dressed in Samurai-like black armor. A golden eagle hood hung over his face, leaving only his sadistic smile exposed. He raised one hand, seethed in metallic claws stained red. "I have no need for you."

"P-p-please, wait, I won't, I won't tell, I swear, please." He flailed, lost his balanced, tumbled to the floor. "I promise. Please, I won't tell, I swear, a secret, I'll keep this all a secret."

The claws dug into his chin and jerk him forward. "I'm sorry, my dear fellow, but I can't be taking any chances. Fear not, though; impaling kills its victims—"

He rammed the weapons into Peter's stomach and offered a quick twist before pulling them out slowly. There wasn't even a gasp.

"Instantaneously." Standing, the villain barely glanced at the corpse, blood oozing from the wound and open mouth. "Henchmen!" he called, and the three men who had kidnapped the mythologist entered the room. "Take our guest outside. Give him a nice burial—he did well. And after that, ready yourself. We have a city to visit."


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Nothing.

Chapter 1

"That is disgusting," Garfield gagged, eyes glued to the oversized, double-cheese chili hotdog in Bart's hand.

"What?" the speedster questioned. "It's good."

"It's _meat_. And it used to be alive."

"Alright, alright, _hermanos_," Jaime stepped in. "Let it go."

Barbara just watched the three, a small smile on her face. The aftermath of their tainted victory had affected all the heroes on the Team, but she had been left in a particularly vulnerable position. Dick, her best friend, had all but disappeared, an untraceable call here and there the only proof of his existence. Artemis was fighting to cope with the loss of Wally, but her façade shattered in the presence of the red-head, who had spent many a night attempting to console her friend. As a Bat, she had prided herself with being able to adapt to and beat all obstacles, but the near-apocalypse had proven that she, too, was human. Always protective of her teammates, this desire was increased ten-fold, and she found herself drawn to Garfield, Jaime, and Bart.

The boys had become nearly inseparable. Bart and Jaime had always been close, if only because of Bart's initial distrust of the older boy, and Garfield had been brought with them through their experience as captives. Now, they appeared completely unfazed by the past, but Barbara knew the truth: Bart spent half his days staring at the Kid Flash tribute; Garfield, according to Megan, had nightmares almost every night; and Jaime…he was carrying his own burden, something she couldn't quite place.

A scream echoing throughout the mall's food court brought her from her contemplation. The four heroes immediately took to their feet and turned toward the sound. The civilians running in a panic obscured their view for a moment, but as the chaos faded, they found its source. A boy, dressed in black and red and wearing what seemed to be a utility belt and goggles, was being chased by a man in black armor. Tables were sent flying by unseen forces, and jets of molten fire launched by the man in black were deflected by a weakening force field around the boy.

Instantly assuming leader-mode, Barbara ordered, "Gar, I want you to morph into the biggest animal you can think of and go after that guy. Jaime and I will help. Bart, get that kid and take him to safety."

They obeyed without another word, Bart zooming ahead to grab his charge. Before he could flee, however, he was brought down by a blast of fire.

"Foolish child," the man growled, stomping over. "You think I cannot see you in high-speed? Shadow Stalker sees all, knows all! He—"

An elephant trunk silenced his tangent.

"Missed the giant pachyderm behind you," the mysterious teen said through pants. "Some villain!" He turned to Bart and smiled. "Hi. I'm Smoke."

"Uh, hi?" the speedster returned, eyeing him. Up close, he could see the jagged cuts across his abdomen and faded bruises under his right eye.

"Impulse, safety, go!"

"Uh, right! Sorry, let's try this again."

With Shadow Stalker preoccupied, this escape attempt succeeded. The three others had no time to celebrate, though, not with the raging enemy to face. Blue Beetle's canons did little to the man, and batarangs deflected without leaving a mark. Only Beast Boy, morphing from one creature to another, seemed to have any affect. Shadow Stalker, apparently, was susceptible to brute force and not much else.

"Keep at it, Beast Boy!" Batgirl shouted, launching an explosive.

Beast Boy, back to an elephant, trumpeted, but Batgirl quickly realized it was a sound of pain, not agreement. Morphing still carried wounds from one form to another, and she noticed, for the first time, the extent of damage he was taking. Burns flanked his sides, as did claw marks.

"Blue Beetle, switch from cannons to battering ram. Beast Boy, back down!"

Blue Beetle complied while Beast Boy did not, leaving Shadow Stalker unable to concentrate his attacks. Batgirl tried to assess the situation, annoyed by how helpless she felt. Glancing at her utility belt, she pulled out an incendiary grenade. "Out of range!"

Waiting only for the movement of her allies, she launched the weapon at Shadow Stalker, who bellowed and collapsed under the flames.

"Who is this guy?" Jaime asked. "And why is he after that kid?"

"We'll figure that out later, after he's in police custody." Barbara pulled out her cell phone but had no sooner dialed 9-1 when Garfield shouted, "No!"

Him, as a wildebeest, leapt into her, and the fire blast just barely missed her.

"You think I am defeated with fire?" Shadow Stalker snarled, rising. "I _harness _its power! I control it! And you _dare _to fight me with it? You—"

He was suddenly flying, crashing into one of the pillars.

Impulse skidded to a stop and dropped Smoke. He glanced toward the villain. "This isn't your day, is it?"

"Impulse, what part of this is safe?" Jaime demanded, tugging his teammates toward the side.

The teen pointed accusingly at Smoke. "He told me to come back."

"You," Shadow Stalker growled, addressing Smoke. "Have you not had enough, foolish mortal?"

"Last time I checked, you're still mortal, too," he returned, eyes locked on his opponent.

"Barely," was the hissed reply. "And once I get _you _out of the way, I will be untouchable!"

He took a step forward, staggered slightly. "So your mind control is improving," he grunted. "But we both know you can't keep this up forever."

The male members of the Team glanced toward their leader, waiting for a signal. She shook her head and held up one hand, a sign to wait—this Smoke had it covered for the moment, and getting involved might make things worse.

"That's what you think," Smoke responded evenly. Shadow Stalker made a strangled sound and seemed to freeze in place. "I have a lot to lose and a lot to fight for."

"Funny. It seems to be that you've already lost everything. Or rather, everyone."

Smoke blinked, and Barbara knew he'd lost concentration. "Blue Beetle, go!"

It was too late. A blast of fire sent Smoke tumbling backwards, and he landed in a crumpled ball.

"Wasting your time and energy," Shadow Stalker jeered as he faced Blue Beetle. "I am undefeatable."

"You confident about that?" the hero countered, stepping back to watch the hawk transform into a blue whale. Gravity took action soon enough.

"Not exactly what I had in mind, but it worked," Barbara murmured. "Good job, Beast Boy."

He waved his tail in triumph before reverting to human form.

"Alright, buddy, you're going to pris—Jesús Cristo, where is he?" Jaime stared at the spot where Shadow Stalker should have been. "Where'd he go?"

"He…does that…a lot." Smoke grimaced as he stood. "Travels…by shadow. Anywhere he…wants."

Barbara came to his side to steady him. "Why is he after you?"

Glossy eyes met hers. He offered a grin and pulled out an emerald from the belt. "This."

He then promptly passed out in her arms.

There was a stunned silence for a moment. Bart was the first to find his voice: "You think I can get another hotdog?"


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Nope.

Chapter 2

Jaime stared, arms crossed over his chest, at the still unconscious form of Smoke. They'd taken him back to the garage, the hideout they used right after the Cave had been destroyed. It had been an hour, and he had yet to move. Barbara was busy tending to Gar's wounds, and Bart was busy inspecting every homemade or improvised gadget in Smoke's utility belt.

_You are nervous, Jaime Reyes. You do not trust this Smoke boy._

"I don't trust the _Diablo_ that came with him," he told the Scarab. "We're not match for him."

_I am insulted._

"You know what I mean. He was practically untouchable. Just look what he did to Gar."

_The changeling's biological systems are normal—for his DNA, at least. I cannot detect any permanent damage nor any drastic alteration._

Jaime rolled his eyes. "Never mind."

What the Scarab couldn't see were the deep gashes stretched down the thirteen-year-old's side, the ones that kept bleeding through the bandages Barbara never seemed to stop changing. What was more, it couldn't see the blank look on the boy's face as Barbara lectured him for disobeying orders, something he had never done on previous missions.

"Ouch!"

Bart dropped the tangled ball of wires and waved his punctured hand in a panic. Jaime just shook his head. "Smooth, _hermano_."

"It's not my fault," he objected, sucking on the wounded area.

"Here, let me help."

Both boys jumped backwards. Smoke was on his feet, smiling down at them.

"Whoa-ho, like a ninja. Totally crash."

"I'll take that as a compliment." Without warning, he took Bart's hand in his own.

"Hey, uh, look, I don't want to be rude or anything, but we just met and…hey, my hand's fixed!"

"What? How?" Jaime turned to Smoke, leaned back to make eye contact—he must have been over six feet tall. "I thought you could control minds."

"I can. Telekinesis. It just happens to come with the extra bonus of being able to heal wounds."

"Awesome!" Bart cheered. "That's perfect. Hey, Barbara, Smoke's up! And guess what? He's a healer!"

Barbara made her way over, Gar trailing by her side. She helped him sit on the couch, and Smoke, noticing the bloodied bandages, set to work.

"Thank you," Gar murmured with a small smile.

"No problem."

Jaime watched the interaction silently. He couldn't help but feel a twinge of…jealousy? No, that wasn't it. Concern. Right, he was concerned.

"We have a lot of questions for you, Smoke." Barbara was no-nonsense in her approach. "Starting with your real name."

"Only if you tell me yours." Reading the look on her face, he continued, "I think it would only be fair."

Her jaw set, she murmured, "Alright, we'll skip that for now. Who is Shadow Stalker, and why is he after you?"

"Typical villain. Don't know what his real identity is. And he wants me because of…the emerald! Where's—?"

"We have it. It's safe. So tell me why we have to keep it that way."

"You ever heard of the Emeralds of Egypt?"

"The what?" Bart and Garfield asked.

"Supposedly, the Egyptian gods gave them to the first Pharaoh, took them back, and left them in the hands of their prophets," Barbara explained. She shook her head. "I learned that in one of my electives-mythology from around the world. They're just myths; they don't exist."

"Trust me, they're not. You've seen one, after all. You've _held _one. Don't tell me you couldn't feel the power emanating from it." When she didn't respond, he continued, "And even if you don't believe, that doesn't mean they're not real. Shadow Stalker has thirteen of them; this last one makes him omnipotent."

"Omnipotent?" Jaime repeated.

"All-powerful," Smoke offered kindly. "Invincible."

"I _know_ what it means," he huffed. "I'm just surprised, I guess. Doesn't this creep think he's gotten enough out of the emeralds? Controlling fire, seeing in high-speed, whatever other tricks he's hiding."

"He didn't get those from the emeralds; he had those before. The emeralds only enhance already-present abilities. Only all together do they grant the gift of omnipotence."

"So this Shadow Stalker had these powers before he got the emeralds?" Barbara frowned, and Jaime recognized that as her thinking face. "Smoke, how long do you estimate that he's been hunting for the emeralds?"

"Whoo, uh, couldn't tell you. Had to be a while, though, to find them all."

"Then how has he never been caught on a Justice League scan?" She was talking more to herself than the others.

"Maybe he hasn't done anything bad before," Gar proposed. "Like he was waiting until he got all the emeralds."

She shook her head again. "He must've done something," she insisted under her breath. "I'll run scans, a massive cross-search when I get the chance." Straightening her back, she met Smoke's eyes, and despite having almost half a foot on her, he still shrunk under the gaze. "How are you involved in all of this? Where did you get your powers, and why have you taken on Shadow Stalker by yourself?"

"That's not really important."

"If we're going to trust you, yes, it is," Jaime objected stubbornly.

Smoke shifted uncomfortably. "I...I kinda just fell into it. When I was first getting used to my powers, I couldn't control them really well, and I saw him and read his mind and found out what he was planning to do. I kept tabs on him, finally learned when he was planning to get the final emerald."

_He is lying, Jaime Reyes. We could take measures to force him to tell us the truth. I believe the sonic cannon would suffice._

"We're not blowing this kid up," he muttered. "Not yet, at least."

Barbara was not convinced-that was obvious from her stance. To Jaime's disbelief, though, she said begrudgingly, "Alright. Alright. So know that you have the final emerald, what's the plan?"

"Plan?" Smoke repeated.

"You have a plan, right?"

"Uh, I'm more of a go-with-the-flow kind of guy."

"Same!" Bart shouted, going for a high-five.

"That attitude is not going to help us against Shadow Stalker," Barbara protested, an edge to her words. "We have the last thing on this Earth that will make him untouchable. We need to figure out how to stop him. Because if we don't bring the battle to him, he'll bring it to us."

"Are we bringing him to the Watchtower?" Jaime questioned.

"No. Not yet. Everyone has enough to worry about without this. We can handle this."

_The Batgirl is also lying. Much is being concealed. Be on alert._

Bart raised his hand. "Um, this is probably a really bad time, but..." As if on cue, his stomach growled. He shrugged sheepishly. "I never got to eat lunch, so..."

Barbara covered her head with her hand. "Fine. Go. But I want you back in half an hour."

"Crash!" He grabbed Smoke's upper arm. "C'mon, dude, I'll show you around. Let's go, Gar!"

The younger boy jumped to his feet and quickly followed. Only when they were halfway out the door did Gar pause and ask, "Do you want to go with us, Jaime?"

"No, I'm fine, really. Go ahead. I'll help Barbara out."

_Now you, too, are lying. Most peculiar behavior, Jaime Reyes. And-_

"Callate!" he growled angrily.

Barbara turned to him. "What?"

"Uh, nothing." He dropped to the couch, slouching in his seat. "You didn't believe a word outta Smoke's mouth, did you?"

"Not about himself. But we have no choice, not now. He's our only lead against this Shadow Stalker."

There was silence for a moment. "You really think we can handle this go on our own?"

"We have to." It was barely above a whisper. "The League has its hands full trying to find Savage, and the Team has its own missions to focus on. So this is just for us."

"Perfect."

_That would be sarcasm, I presume._

He rubbed at his now throbbing temples. The sooner they took down Shadow Stalker, the better.

Because he was a threat.

Not because it meant Smoke wouldn't be around anymore.

Right.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Nope.

Chapter 3

Bart took another large bite of his third slice of pizza and continued explaining to Smoke how they defeated the Reach. He had already given a brief, Sparks-Notes version of the mini-Team, and it felt only right to describe their latest and greatest victory. If they were going to be working together, this guy had to know they were the best of the best. From Smoke's constant nodding and eyes wide with admiration, Bart knew the tale was working its magic, and he couldn't keep the pride out of his voice. They _had _saved the world, after all.

As the story neared its end, though, he talked a little slower, chewed a little longer, but nothing could prevent the inevitable. "Wally gave his life to defeat the aliens. So I took up his mantle as Kid Flash."

"You did?" Smoke cocked his head to one side. "But Barbara called you Impulse, didn't she?"

"Uh, yeah, well, you know, in the heat of battle, everything gets a little confusing."

Truth was, no one saw him as Kid Flash. In uniform, yeah, the yellow and red was hard to ignore, but outside, there was no comparison. During training, he was almost exclusively called Impulse until someone caught the mistake and awkwardly attempted to fix it. Nothing had changed other than the fact that his cousin had been taken from him.

He was no Wally. He'd never be, no matter how hard he trained or how much better he got. The red and yellow would never truly be his.

"We better get back," Gar piped up. "Before Batgirl sends a search party."

"Batgirl's a strict leader?" Smoke asked.

Bart shrugged as he stood. "She just wants to make sure everything goes right, you know? After the Reach...well, there was a lot of stress. Lot to handle. So she just wants to keep everything under control."

They started walking back. Even with Smoke's utility belt and goggles stashed at the hideout, his costume still brought strange looks their way.

"Hey, if you're from the future, do you remember me?" Smoke asked with a smile. "Was I famous?"

"Uh, dude, Reach apocalypse?"

"Well, yeah, I know that, but was I a hero? Did I exist?"

"He can't tell you," Garfield intervened. "Ruins the timeline or something." He frowned. "Still want to know if I got my own television show."

Bart clicked his tongue. "Guys, bros, listen, all that matters is the now, not the tomorrow. The future will come when it comes."

In his head, he was scanning his memories for any signs of Smoke. Nothing. Not even a fairy-tale like story of a telekinetic who gave his life for the cause.

Come to think of it, there was no mention of Shadow Stalker or any description that remotely resembled his. Strange, since stories from the good old days, when the League could face anything, defeat anyone, were whispered as bedtime stories under the starless sky.

Victory must have altered the timeline. Given this villain the opportunity to rise.

Bart wasn't even surprised that this happened. They may have saved the world, but it didn't come without a cost. Wally wasn't supposed to sacrifice himself-he was alive and well in the future, one of the leaders of the underground resistance movement; Artemis wasn't supposed to be Tigress-she was still decked in her green, bow ready, as she stood beside her husband in combat against the Reach.

Then again, Jaime was still Jaime and not Blue Beetle. That was a major plus, especially after all the Hell the future Blue had put him through, especially after he had befriended Jaime. What had begun as a mere precautionary measure, keeping a close eye on the teen to prevent his transformation, had evolved into a friendship. His best friend was the person who had tortured him. Bart almost laughed every time he thought about it.

Almost.

Because Jaime _had _become Blue Beetle. He'd fallen under Reach control. He'd become a puppet to the Scarab.

And Bart didn't even know.

When he wasn't dreaming of Wally disappearing without a trace, he dreamt of Jaime transforming into a monster. The future hadn't been saved, the world was an ash pit, and Blue Beetle stood over him, watching as he struggled to meet Reach quotas and laughing when he fell. "Weak meat," he would sneer, sonic cannon raised, and...

And then Bart would awake in a cold sweat, trembling so badly he vibrated halfway through the mattress.

He glanced at Smoke. The kid seemed nice enough. But he was as secretive as a Bat, and he was totally lying about how he knew Shadow Stalker, and what if he was actually the villain, what if he had ulterior motives, what if he was a threat, what if...

"Bart? Bart, what's wrong?" Garfield was gripping his shoulders. "Bart, you're vibrating!"

"What's happening?" Smoke asked.

"He's been doing this ever since...I mean, it happens sometimes. When he gets upset. Or nervous."

"I'm fine," the speedster managed, taking huge gulps of air. "I'm fine."

Garfield gave him the once-over before releasing his hold. "You sure?"

"Yeah, yeah, I, I don't know. I'm fine, I promise." He tried to grin. "C'mon, let's keep going."

"You sure?" Smoke took a step closer. "You seem pale."

"No, really, I'm good. That was a freak thing, I guess."

"Really?" Garfield studied his face. "It's never just happened before. It-"

"I'm _fine_," he growled. "Seriously, Garfield, back off."

The shape-shifter's ears drooped. "Sorry."

Bart opened his mouth but then remembered Smoke was there, observing everything, so he swallowed it back. As of now, Smoke couldn't be trusted. He might have seemed cool, but they didn't know enough about him. And he'd be damned if he were tricked.

Again.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: Nope.

Chapter 4

_The electricity courses through his body, rendering him helpless. All he can do was scream, voice torn from his lips, tasting blood in his throat. The aliens watch but don't care, tap on the glass to demand for silence, amp up the experiment when he refuses to obey. Everything hurts. There is no relief. _

_ He doesn't know where Bart is, where Jaime is. Maybe they're dead; they could be _dead_. He wants to morph, but even without the collar, he wouldn't be able to. He's too weak to concentrate, the images of animals only blurry, distorted shapes in his mind. He's too weak to do anything._

_ He wants Megan. She protects him; she takes care of him. She'll make it better. But there's no Megan. They took her, too. And he can't find her; they won't even let him _look _for her. They know he's weak, that he can't do anything right. He doesn't belong on the Team; they just added him because his mom died. He's not a real hero. He's not anything._

_ The pod suddenly opens, the electricity stops. Landing on his hands and knees, he looks around frantically for someone, for anyone. He's alone. All alone. Not even his torturers are here._

_ He tries to shout, but he can't make a sound. He tries to move, but his body won't obey. He waits for someone to save him. Because he can't save himself. Because he can't save anyone. He's a failure._

_ "Garfield!"_

_ It's Megan, and Bart, and Jaime. One unified voice._

_ There's still no one there._

_ "Help! Please, help!"_

_ He closes his eyes and thinks of a panther. An elephant. A tyrannosaurus rex. Anything._

_ Nothing._

_ "Help! Please, Gar, please!"_

_ The chant grows louder and louder and louder, but there's nothing he can do, nothing, no matter how hard he tries._

_ "Garfield! Garfield, please!"_

"Garfield!"

He shot up in bed. Megan was kneeling beside him.

"Oh, Gar," she breathed, pulling him into a hug. He buried his head in the crook of her neck, not even caring that thirteen-year-old's didn't act this way. The tears trickled down his cheeks unashamed. "Oh, Gar, sweetie, it was only a bad dream."

"I know," he whispered. "I'm s-sorry I woke you."

"Gar, it's not your fault," she protested soothingly, gentle hands brushing the hair out of his eyes.

"My st-stupid brainwaves."

"Shhh, don't talk that way. This isn't your fault." She held him closer and continued in a softer voice, "But if you talked about it, you might feel better."

He only shook his head; it was too embarrassing.

He hadn't told anyone about his sudden drop in self-confidence. As one of the youngest and ultimately least-experienced on the Team, he always worried about how he did compared to the others. After the Invasion...he was past the point of worried, borderline paranoid. Wally had been killed, and Nightwing had taken a leave of absence, and Artemis couldn't even bear to be Artemis anymore, and they were all so much stronger than he was. Worse, Megan had been kidnapped, and, yeah, maybe that was all part of a grander scheme, but he still hadn't been able to _do_ anything to help her. His blood sister had been, as far as he knew, at the mercy of Black Manta, and he hadn't even looked for her. He just kept his head down and obeyed orders.

Not anymore. He would prove himself to the Team, to himself. He was more than a thirteen-year-old goofball. He was a hero, a real one, and he wouldn't let anyone play puppeteer with him.

That was the reason he'd disobeyed Barbara when they fought Shadow Stalker; he didn't want to back down because of a few bruises and cuts. Even though his body retained damage, it translated differently from form to form. What looked bad in a larger form would be less devastating in a smaller one. Besides, heroes fought with injuries.

They certainly didn't cry into their adopted sister's shoulder, either, but in the darkness of the night, he just chose to overlook that.

"Do you want me to stay?" she asked in a whisper once the tears had finally dried. "I don't mind."

He shook his head and tried to smile. "I'm okay, Megan, really. Thanks, though."

She didn't believe him, but she didn't press the issue; she had tried once, right after the nightmares had first started, and he responded by morphing into a turtle and hiding in his shell for the rest of the night. "Alright. But I'm right in the other room if you need me, okay?"

"I know, sis. Thanks. But I'll be okay."

He stared at the wall until dawn finally broke out across the horizon.

Tired, physically and mentally, he snuck from the apartment and zeta'd to the garage. Talking to Smoke and Bart would make him feel better.

The speedster crashed into him just as he entered.

"Ouch, dude," Gar mumbled, rubbing at his skull. "What's the rush?"

"Smokeisgone!"

"Uh...what?"

"Smoke. Is. Gone," he repeated, handing waving wildly for emphasis.

"What? What happened?"

"I don't _know. _I go to bed, Smoke's on the couch. I wake up, poof! Nowhere in sight."

"Maybe he went on a walk?"

Bart shook his head and extended his right hand. "I found this on the pillow."

It was an old photo, with tattered edges. Smoke, maybe fourteen or fifteen, was dressed in civvies and grinning from ear to ear. His arm was wrapped around the shoulders of a younger girl. She had the same color hair, the same color eyes, the same facial structure.

Gar met Bart's eyes. "Coincidence?"

Bart shook his head. "No way."


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: Nope.

Chapter 5

Smoke walked down the near-empty corridors of the hospital, choking on the smell of Lysol and medicine and patients past the point of help. His eyes scanned the room numbers, struggling to find the one he needed, and the search wasn't helped by the need to dodge doctors and nurses strolling down the dimly lit hallways.

He was in a small hospital on the outskirts of New York City. Even though he'd been here only this morning, it felt like a thousand years had passed.

Finally, he found room 103. As quietly as possible, he pushed the door open and stepped inside. The only bed was occupied by a small figure, lying like a corpse on top of the covers.

"Hey, princess," he whispered gently, coming to her side. He easily took her in his arms as he pulled the blankets down. "Let's try to get you more comfortable, hmm?" Carefully, he placed her back down and draped the covers on top of her. "There. Better, right?" Fingers dancing on the thick, white bandages that wrapped around her head, he mused softly, "Just because you're in a coma doesn't mean you can't hear me, right?" He started playing with the ends of her hair, cut short, much shorter than she'd ever worn before. "You're going to kill me for that, even though the doctors had to do it. I can just see you now." The smile felt wrong. Everything felt wrong.

With a sigh, he dropped into the hard wooden chair and bowed his head. He wasn't Smoke anymore; he was plain old Adam Ingram. The seventeen-year-old who stumbled into a world of good versus evil and dragged his little sister along with him.

"I'm sorry, Angela," he whispered hoarsely, wanting for nothing more than for her to wake up and jump out of bed, insist that they continue their search for Shadow Stalker.

Even though she was the one who discovered Shadow Stalker, the whole power business was because of Adam. After their parents had been killed two years ago, he'd stupidly convinced Angela that being on the run was a lot better than being in foster care. They lived on the street before coming into contact with the Blue Dragons, a gang that had close ties with the Shadows. They'd promised the siblings a well-paying job, conveniently leaving out the small detail that the 'job' was one as human experiments.

A week of being poked, prodded, and dosed in chemicals, Adam emerged as a telekinetic and Angela as a seer. They were then prepped for execution-because the Shadows couldn't afford meta humans running around, now could they?-and escaped by a combination of luck and pure determination.

Homeless and broke once more, the two spent their days scrounging for food and avoiding the street gangs, relying on Adam's mind-reading to get money from amused, unsuspecting pedestrians searching for a show. They got by like this for a while but were then approached by The Lost Ones, a group of teens also fleeing the foster care system. None of them had powers, but they lived in a safe-enough hideaway and had perfected all techniques at finding food and earning money. The siblings lasted with them for close to a year without incident. That was when Angela started getting stronger visions.

She'd wake up with tears in her eyes, telling her brother about a man in the shadows, killing people with claws and gathering green rocks. The visions started coming in the day, so bad and so often that she had to stay in the hideout. There were multiple people spread across multiple states, crimes and disasters, but the man in the shadows was always among them, always plotting and killing, searching for more and more green rocks. Adam, to help soothe her, made it his mission to understand the meaning behind them. All he managed to discover was the Emeralds of Egypt legend, which he, reluctantly, told to his sister. From then on, she became obsessed with her powers, writing down everything she saw in hopes of finding out who the man was.

The Lost Ones never mentioned Angela's visions; they knew about the Blue Dragons, had lost some of their own to the experimentation, and treated the now fifteen-year-old no differently than anyone else. If it had been up to Adam, they never would have left.

Then Angela had her final vision, the one that pushed her over the edge, the one of the man in the shadows killing the mythologist and planning his trip to New York, and Angela begged Adam to go, begged him to help her intervene, and he had bowed to the pressure. In one day, with the help of their friends, they managed to create some costumes-according to The Lost Ones' Leader, Nat, they had to dress the part of heroes to be taken seriously-and made their way to New York.

Right away, they should have known it was going to be difficult.

Just getting to the city was a challenge; Adam's powers permitted him to travel through concentrative measures, visualizing his location, but bringing Angela along had seriously weakened him. Finding the emerald had taken almost an entire day, which gave Shadow Stalker, as he would call himself, time to catch up with them. The fight was brutal, Adam's powers barely making a dent on him and Angela limited to throwing their homemade weapons, and they only got away because civilians had called the police.

For the next three days, they were on the run, encountering him or his minions. It was on the fourth day that Angela had been thrown like a rag-doll into a wall.

It was Hell, carrying his limp, barely breathing sister to the hospital, and leaving her there, waiting only long enough to know her room number, was the hardest thing he ever had to do. But Shadow Stalker was still a threat, and he couldn't afford to put her in any more danger. So he fled, came back home to Happy Harbor, and awaited Shadow Stalker.

He wiped away a few tears that he hadn't known were falling and took a ragged breath. Tenderly, he laid his hand on his sister's head and whispered, "It's gonna be okay, Angela. I promise."

He tried to communicate, tried to reach her the only way he knew how, and probed her brain. It was static and snaps of pictures, a television screen distorted by snow.

Leaning back, he wondered how this could get any worse.

"Smoke?"

Jumping to his feet, he turned around. Batgirl was standing in the doorway.

Well, there was his answer.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: Nope.

Chapter 6

It had taken hours and hours and _hours _of searching, of scanning every report, every article, every website that might have had any relevant bit of information, but Barbara had finally, _finally_ deducted the identity of Shadow Stalker.

Allen Darcy.

Always on the move, location to location, the man was hard to track. Barbara had managed to do it, though, and everywhere he went, trouble seemed to follow. Independently, the incidents seemed like freak accidents, tragedies. A leading military weapon specialist died of a heart attack. Two pyro-technical experts found dead of unknown causes. An innovator in optology beaten into a vegetative state. Everyday people, civilians, found mysteriously murdered, all in leading cities across the continents. And Allen Darcy was there every single time.

He was a background man, a nobody, despite his naturally large stature. He just went through his life, bothering no one, attracting no attention.

And the entire time, he was plotting to become an omnipotent super-villain.

Barbara sighed and pushed herself away from her computer, blinking rapidly to adjust her vision. The page she was staring at now? Her best guess at Shadow Stalker's hideout.

Despite his constant wandering, Darcy always had a go-to back in the states: his parents' estate in Connecticut. The mansion, the only way to describe it, had been passed through the Darcy lineage from generation to generation, so much so it was hard to determine how the family had come into such money. It mattered not, really, only that it permitted Allen to travel as he did and granted him a perfect, secure location to hide himself from the world.

She hooked up her wrist computer to download the information before subconsciously checking her phone.

He still didn't call.

Not that she was waiting for Dick to call. She could handle the Team (even though they always asked about Nightwing), she could handle Tim (even though he spent more and more time with Cassie and less and less time at the Batcave), she could handle Bruce and Alfred (even though they treated his old room like a tomb and stared at the Jason hologram as though it were both sons), and she could handle Shadow Stalker (even though it was a League job limited to four heroes and one kid trying to figure it out).

She glanced at the clock. Almost four in the morning. If she didn't get some sleep, she'd be no help.

Heading downstairs for something to calm her mind, she spotted Smoke. The boy had crashed on the couch, but now he was standing up, head in his hands. Concerned, Barbara approached him, but before she could say a word, they were gone.

When the world stop spinning and her knees stopped shaking, she took in her surroundings. A hospital.

This didn't make any sense, though why she expected things to make sense anymore was beyond her. All she could do was stay quiet and follow Smoke, a few feet in front of her.

When they entered the hospital room, she respectfully kept a few paces back. Whoever this was, she had no right to intervene. It was personal.

Finally, though, she felt she had to make her presence known. "Smoke?"

He whirled around. "Batgirl?"

"Hey." She stepped into the room.

Shifting uncomfortably, he murmured, "I must have brought you with me by accident. It would explain why I feel so much more drained than usual."

"Your powers brought us here?"

"Thought traveling." He stared at the bed. "You're probably wondering why I'm here, huh?"

"A little."

A deep breath. "This is my younger sister Angela. She was-is-a seer. Shadow Stalker did this to her."

"I'm sorry."

He shrugged. "She'll get better. She's tough."

Silence.

Barbara sighed quietly. "Smoke, is it too much to ask to know your back story? The real one?"

He didn't respond once away, but when he did, he told her everything, from the death of their parents to his return to Happy Harbor. She listened intently, feeling sorrow for him, for Angela, being thrown into the world of heroism. For her, for most of her teammates, the hero world had been a choice. They had mentors to guide them, friends to keep them in check. These kids had nothing but each other, and now one of them was in a comatose state.

When Smoke-Adam-was finished, Barbara wrapped an arm around his shoulders. "I'm sorry, Adam, about all of this. But what happened to her wasn't your fault. And without you two, Shadow Stalker would be taking over the world by now. So we're going to take this monster down, once and for all." She played with her computer and brought up the information about Allen Darcy. "This is him. I'm almost positive. And this should be the location of his hideout."

"We're going there?"

"As soon as morning breaks."

"Okay." He looked at his sister before whispering, "What if she doesn't get better?"

"She will," Barbara promised. "And once Shadow Stalker's defeated, you'll get to be with her until she does." She stood and held a hand to him. "Let's get going."

Adam accepted with a grim smile. "Let's do this."


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 7

Everyone was already at the hideout when Jaime arrived.

Pursing his lips in annoyance, he tried to shake the feeling off. "Okay, so do we have a plan?"

Barbara played with the holographic computer and brought up information on Allen Darcy. "This is Shadow Stalker. I'm almost positive. And this should be his hideout."

_Almost positive and should be are signs of doubt. This plan is not fool-proof, Jaime Reyes. You must be cautious._

"So, what, are we going to go there powers a-blazing and destroy those emeralds?" Bart questioned.

"In a nutshell, yes," Smoke offered.

Jaime tilted his head, like he couldn't have possibly heard right. "That's it? That's our battle strategy?"

"Shadow Stalker doesn't have any obvious weaknesses, other than being affected by brute physical strength and Smoke's telekinesis. All of his powers are manufactured; they're so strong now because of the emeralds, but without the emeralds, they'll deteriorate. We need to hit him strong. This can't be something that's done in steps." Barbara shut down the computer and handed Smoke a communicator. "So everyone in uniform. We leave ASAP."

"Wait, hold on." Jaime gestured to Garfield. "He's one of the two people who can actually damage this _Diablo _and he's hurt! We can't start today; he needs to heal."

"I'm fine, Jaime," Gar protested defensively. "I'm okay."

"Besides, the longer we wait, the better the chance of Shadow Stalker finding us," Bart added.

_They have a point. It is best to agree with this._

"Alright."

After everyone was dressed in their hero attire, Barbara said, "Smoke can thought-travel, so he's going separately. The rest of us are zeta-ing there; the closest transporter is about a mile from the Darcy estate. I'll disable any alarms when we get there, and then we'll do a sweeping search of the house. If we meet Shadow Stalker, Beast Boy and Smoke are the frontlines; the rest of us focus on tracking down the emeralds. Okay?"

They all nodded. Jaime, Bart, Garfield, and Barbara headed for the transporter while Smoke just disappeared. They met him at the estate, where he was hanging back as far as possible, nervously eyeing the building.

"Alright, move in," Barbara commanded.

They obeyed, trying to be stealthy, but it was hard to do so in the daytime.

_You do not approve of this, Jaime Reyes. You will be vulnerable if you do not trust in the plan._

"Callete," Jaime grumbled.

Bart glanced his way. "What?"

"Uh, nothing."

Batgirl scanned the perimeter with one of her special Bat gadgets that no one else could understand. "No alarm system. Blue Beetle, can you check for anyone inside?"

He slipped on the heat-sensors. "No one."

"Well, this should be easier than anticipated," their leader murmured. "Beast Boy, transform into a mouse, slide beneath the door, and unlock it for us."

He did so immediately, and the door swung out toward them. The Team walked inside, eyes scanning their surroundings. It was covered in dust, as though no one had lived here for a long, long time.

_Do not let the appearance fool you. Someone was here recently. Three days, to be exact._

"Alright, split up. Blue Beetle, Im-Kid Flash, and Smoke, take the downstairs. Beast Boy and I will take the upstairs."

They followed the command; Kid Flash stayed close to Smoke.

"You know, splitting up might be more helpful if we actually _split up_," Blue Beetle hissed, moving down a different hallway.

_Jaime Reyes, you are threatened by the Smoke boy. And not by his powers._

"I don't need this right now," he grumbled in annoyance.

_If you would like to eliminate him, I suggest the sonic cannon._

"You always suggest the sonic cannon."

_It is most beneficial. Wait. There is something here._

He glanced at the wall. Nothing.

"You sure about that?"

_Yes. It is hidden, but the spacing behind the wall is empty. Trust me. The break in the wallpaper; placed the blade between it and push._

Still skeptical, he relented. Instead of wood, like he expected, it was metal paneling that spread apart.

_I believe now is the time to say _I told you so.

"Whatever," he muttered. He pressed the link. "Guys, I found something. Left of the kitchen, third hallway. Can't miss it."

"Wow, that just screams evil lair, doesn't it?" Kid Flash mused.

Blue Beetle flashed a light. It illuminated stone stairs leading into the darkness.

"Why do I feel like we're stepping into a horror movie?" Smoke said quietly.

"Probably because we are," Blue Beetle returned, taking the descent.

The hideaway seemed like a never-ending hallway. Just when he was convinced it was a trap, though, the space spread into an open room. Alone the sides, in glass cases, were the emeralds.

"Perfect!" Smoke almost shouted, running forward.

A blast of fire rose from the darkness and almost hit him square in the chest. Shadow Stalker, chuckling darkly, came toward them. "Yes. Perfect, indeed."

The echo of metal closing rang throughout the hallway.


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: Nope.

Chapter 8

Well, this wasn't crash.

Bart stared at Shadow Stalker, fire dancing at his fingertips, the light illuminating the blood-stained claws.

"I'm glad you found me," he mused quietly. "Killing you will be much more convenient."

"Don't bet on that," Blue Beetle growled. "It's one against five."

"Oh, really?" He turned his head slightly. "Come greet our guests."

From the back of the room came henchmen, dressed in all black, carrying knives.

"If you surrender, I will give you a merciful death," the villain proposed. "If you choose to fight, I will make you suffer."

"We don't go down without a fight," Batgirl insisted, throwing a bat-a-rang at one of the henchmen. He fell to the floor with a thud.

Chaos promptly ensued, the teens attempting to battle the enemies, the ones that seemed to continually multiple. Without Megan, there was no mind link to keep a battle plan established, and the comm. link was utterly useless in a confined space. Even though the henchmen were human, making them easy to take down, there were too many to keep under control, too many preventing them from reaching the emeralds. Shadow Stalker was staying back, as though he was enjoying the show.

Finally, they started making headway; the flow of goons was steadily decreasing. Seeing the opportunity, Bart made a rush for one of the cases...

A swipe of metal claws brought him to his feet. Blood started oozing through his uniform.

"Little speedster, you are no match for me," Shadow Stalker purred, fingers gripping the back of his neck. "And I will enjoy watching you die."

"Get away from him!"

A sonic blast knocked Shadow Stalker away from his target. With a snarl, he got to his feet and faced Blue Beetle. "Perhaps you will be my first victim." Suddenly, he laughed. "Or perhaps not."

Fire whizzed past Blue Beetle's head and struck Beast Boy in the side. The impact forced him to revert to his human form.

"No!" Blue Beetle threw himself at Shadow Stalker, but each blow was easily deflected and returned.

_Come on, come on, get up! Help him!_

But the wound was too deep, and speed healing wasn't quite fast enough. Of course he couldn't help him; he couldn't do anything.

He was no Wally.

"You're gonna be okay." Smoke was at his side, hand on the wound. The injury slowly began closing. "This is pretty bad, I don't know if I can heal it completely." He glanced around quickly. "Listen, new plan. You get out of here; take Gar with you. Find the entrance, break out, whatever. I'll talk to Batgirl and Jaime, too. I can handle Shadow Stalker enough for you guys to get out."

"But Smoke-"

"I can thought travel, and I can hold my own for a little."

"But what about the emeralds?"

"We'll get those later; this isn't a fight we can win right now."

As if on cue, Blue Beetle was thrown into the wall and crumbled to the floor.

"Go!" Smoke lifted the teen off of the floor and pushed him toward Garfield, who was trying to fight despite the burn to his side.

And Bart felt so useless and pathetic and weak but he did what he had to, grabbed his friend by the hand and ran to the exit and threw himself against the steel.

"Hold up." Grimacing, Beast Boy morphed into an elephant and swung his trunk, again and again, against the sealed doors. It took almost a minute, but it finally yielded. Reverting to human, he muttered, "Ouch."

"Get out!" Batgirl was sprinting toward them, followed closely by Blue Beetle.

"What about Smoke?" Beast Boy questioned.

"He's the distraction; he's covering us. Now go!"

They obeyed, and the four teens never stopped running until they reached the zeta-transporter.

"Okay, that officially sucked," Jaime muttered in annoyance when they reached the hideout. "Has a mission ever backfired that bad...uh, never mind." He plopped onto the couch.

Gar took a seat next to him, curling up in a ball, injured side exposed to the air.

"Look, we'll regroup," Batgirl said. "We'll figure this out. All we need is-" Her phone started ringing, and from the way her eyes widened behind her mask, she clearly knew from the ring tone who it was. She immediately picked up and asked, "Are you okay? What's wrong?" Her face contorted. "Alright, alright, I'll be right there." Hanging up, she stripped off her mask and tossed it to the side. She then discarded her utility belt. "Okay, Jaime, you're unofficial leader for right now," she told him, racing upstairs. Back a minute later with a shirt thrown on over her uniform, she continued, "Get in touch if you need anything."

"But Smoke's not even here yet!" Bart protested, but the words were lost as she ran out the door. He turned to his friends. "What was that about?"

"Who knows?" Jaime grumbled. "And why should we? Just because we're her teammates and left to deal with some new upstart who isn't even...oh, wait, here he comes." He threw his arms out as Smoke wearily entered. "Where were you? Why didn't you just come right back here?"

The older boy shrugged and took a seat next to him. Bart noticed him tensing. "I got overwhelmed, thought of the wrong place. I'm sorry."

"Whatever. Look, Batgirl's out of action right now, so I'm leader as of now, and I say we can't back down. We have to hit him again, harder, better. He needs to be off guard."

A burst of flames enveloped the room. "Just like you are?" Shadow Stalker hissed.

They jumped to their feet, but Shadow Stalker launched another flame attack, filling the room with thick smoke. "I would like to thank my dear friend for bringing with me when he traveled. Knowing your cute little hideout is so beneficial. But if you excuse, I must be going. Say goodbye to your shape-shifter."

_What?_ Bart blinked through the haze and could barely see Shadow Stalker with his hand around Gar's throat.

"NO!" he shouted.

He did what he always did. He ran. But it wasn't enough (was it ever enough?) because the two were gone.


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: Nothing.

Chapter 9

He awoke in darkness.

Initially panicking, he remembered what had happened, Shadow Stalker grabbing him, passing out as they traveled. Breathing deeply through his nose, a calming technique Nightwing had taught him right after he joined the Team, he blinked rapidly in an attempt to see more. Nothing. He tried to move, but he realized his feet were chained to the floor. Frustrated, he envisioned an elephant. The morph didn't come.

"Do not bother with your powers, little one." Shadow Stalker, sheathed in a veil of fire, walked toward him. The light from the flames revealed a broken light bulb above the shape-shifter's head and a small metallic door at the back of the room. "You see, I have friends in many, many places. And one of those places happens to be Belle Reve. You have heard of that, I'm sure." Kneeling, he pressed a blade to a small chip embedded in Garfield's upper arm. "You should take this as a compliment. You're the only one of the heroes I see as a threat, which is why I was so quick to have this power neutralizer created."

"I'm flattered," he returned, trying to work up a glare.

Shadow Stalker just laughed and patted his head, as though he were a puppy. "You're determination is amusing. It's actually quite admirable."

"That's not going to get me out of here, is it?"

"Oh, of course not. The only way you're leaving is when it's time for me to bury you."

His heart skidded to a stop, but he refused to show it. "My friends will find me."

"No, they won't. Firstly, shadow travel is untraceable. Secondly, I added this to my property just recently; it has no connection to any other part of the house, and the entrance is undetectable by anyone other than me. So no, my dear friend, they will not find you. Your corpse, perhaps, but not you. And as for the emeralds, well, I'll be moving them to a more secure location, somewhere no one can find them." Clasping his hands behind his back, he mused, "Now, decisions, decisions. Do I kill you first and go back for the last emerald, or do I retrieve it now and kill you in celebration?"

"How about you bite me?" Garfield growled, using the 'ultimate comeback' Artemis had left him with when she and Wally quit the Team.

The claws dug into his chin. "Just for that, I will kill you first. And now, I will do it slowly."

And he shrugged, like he wasn't scared, even though he was practically trembling. He couldn't let Shadow Stalker go after the last emerald, not with Barbara MIA and the others probably freaking out over what happened.

Or maybe they didn't care. Because it's not like he was much help to the Team, anyway.

A fist crashed into the side of his face, bringing him to reality. Shadow Stalker had slipped off the claws and was flexing his fingers. "I believe I will enjoy this," he whispered quietly. "I haven't beaten someone to death in years. Do you know how long it takes to beat someone to death?"

He did, actually. He'd been on the Team for less than the month when Nightwing came into the Cave, sobbing hysterically, because the Joker had murdered Robin. And it took almost half an hour for the story to be told because Nightwing could barely even speak, but they finally learned that the psychotic clown had taken Robin hostage and beat him with a crowbar before finally ending his misery by leaving him to die in an explosion. So he knew that it took longer than three hours, that it shattered bones and liquefied organs and destroyed flesh, that it was probably one of the most painful ways to die, without the extra bonus of being forced through an explosion.

He didn't say any of this, though, just forced himself to smile, because if he was going to die, he was going to die a hero.

It was the most brutal, agonizing thing he ever experienced, worse than even the experimentation. Shadow Stalker alternated between kicking and punching, deliberately aiming for his ribs and spine, with the occasional blow to his face. He could taste blood flooding his mouth, felt it oozing from his nose and dribbling from a cut on his forehead.

Shadow Stalker knelt and forced him onto his knees. "What are you thinking about right now?"

"Nothing," he rasped. Flecks of red landed on his capture.

"Don't lie to me, little one. Are you thinking of your teammates? Do you still imagine that they will save you?"

"They will," he growled. "I know it."

"Your optimism is adorable." Flames danced on his hands. "Let me see if I can crush it. Perhaps, if you scream, I will end this faster."

"Bring it," he sneered.

And then the fire was eating the flesh on his arms and his stomach and his legs and he couldn't ignore it, couldn't pretend it wasn't happening, and he closed his eyes and wept because it _hurt_ and he wanted to be back with the Team, the whole Team, not this little fragment fighting someone they can't beat, with his sister and Connor and Robin and everyone else, people who could protect him, but there was no one, no one but him and he was too weak and he couldn't do this.

He screamed.

Shadow Stalker stopped. "There," he murmured, "was that so hard?" He ran his fingers across the burns, earning a quiet, broken whimper. "You seemed to have suffered quite lovely." Calmly, he pulled the claws back over his hands. "And now, I will end it."

Garfield closed his eyes as the weapons dugs into his stomach.

"Actually, I'm feeling generous." The nails were slowly pulled out. "I'll let you bleed out instead. To give you time to pray to whatever deity you believe in." Garfield heard his footsteps, followed by his distant voice: "Maybe you'll get a miracle."

And there was darkness and silence.

And again he screamed.


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: Nothing.

Chapter 10

All Adam felt was panic.

That was the only thing his body, his brain, could possibly process as he stared at the place Garfield used to be. It was all-consuming and overpowering, the same kind of panic he'd experienced when he saw Angela lying sprawled on the floor.

And then the fear was replaced by pain as Jaime's fist crashed into his face.

"I can't believe you!" he snarled. "This is your fault!"

"It, it was an accident," he protested quietly, raising his hands in self-defense.

The younger teen just growled and plowed into his stomach; even though Adam had at least half a foot on him, the sudden attack was enough to bring him to the floor.

"An accident?! You brought that _hijo de puta _here! He took Garfield. He _took _Garfield!" Another punch to the face. "What do you think is going to happen to him?! How _could _you?"

"I, I, it was a mistake."

It had been. Left alone with Shadow Stalker, struggling against the beast of a man, he'd imagined his home, the one from his childhood, when his family had been whole, located a block away from the hideout. He'd been taken there instead. Shadow Stalker must have been sucked into the travel and followed him.

Jaime raised his fist for another blow, but Bart grabbed his arm. "Please, stop," he whispered, voice trembling. "Jaime, this isn't going to help. It was an accident."

He whirled around. "I don't care if it was an accident! Garfield is gone, our leader is gone, and we don't have a fricking plan! We don't even know where they might be!"

"If we go back to his estate-"

"You really think he'd keep the emeralds there after we found them? They're long gone by now. And we have no other leads."

"Beating up Smoke isn't going to solve anything."

"Right, take his side!" He shook off the thirteen-year-old. "He's the reason Garfield is in the hands of a monster, but go ahead, take his side!" With a disgusted look at Adam, Jaime got to his feet and stormed upstairs.

"Jaime!" Bart protested. "Please, Jaime, wait!"

He raced after him.

Adam slowly got to his feet and sat down heavily on the couch, head in his hands. Jaime was right; this was his fault. And Garfield was going to pay for it.

Tears burned the back of his eyes, but he swallowed them back. Crying wouldn't help anything right now. He had to focus, he had to figure out a way to fix this.

Taking a deep breath, he thought back to The Lost Ones, to something Nat had said after he revealed his powers: _How strong do you think they are? Do you have to be in contact with someone to read their mind? That would be so awesome if you didn't; you'd practically be unstoppable!_

If he could get into contact with Shadow Stalker somehow...

He closed his eyes, imagined the villain's brainwaves. Everyone had a different brainwave, unique to the individual; even when he was using his powers on the street, he'd been able to tell the difference between people. And fight after fight with Shadow Stalker had imbedded the man's wavelength into his memory: short and rapid, like the buzzing of a wasp, with power emanating from each burst of thought.

There was an onslaught of brainwaves as he allowed himself to connect with his surroundings. That was the thing with thought: it was intangible and all around, traveling the globe at a speed that nothing, not even the speed of light, could match. He'd never before open his telekinesis to the atmosphere; he'd always had a specific target. Now, he was overwhelmed by waves, all bombarding his psyche. It hurt, too, filled his brain with a deep throbbing, but he refused to back down. This was his fault, and he had to fix it.

Finally, he found it, felt the familiar buzz of power, and he latched onto it.

Garfield. Lying so still, bathed in a pool of blood, on a cold concrete floor.

And that was enough.

He landed with a thud in the darkness of this underground room. Blinking but seeing nothing, he started to crawl, searching for his friend.

"Garfield? Garfield, it's me. C'mon, Garfield, please."

His hand found a sneaker.

"Garfield!" He stretched his arm forward, landed on the boy's shoulder. "Please, please be okay."

A whimper.

"It's gonna be okay," he whispered, pulling the boy into his grasp, wincing at the gasp of pain that came from the movement. "I'm gonna get you back, safe and sound. Okay?"

Another whimper.

He concentrated back on the hideout. When they reappeared, he got his first true look at Garfield's injuries. He couldn't hold back the tears.

"It'll be alright," he whispered, resting his hands on the deep gash in his stomach. "Don't you worry."

But the wound was too deep and he was too drained from so much thought traveling, and it barely even closed.

"I'm sorry." He brushed hair from the boy's face, got blood on his hand. "I'm so sorry."

He tried the other injuries, the burns, the bruises, but the results were the same.

"Jaime!' Adam called, accepting defeat. "Bart! Come here, please!"

Bart rushed down the stairs. "What's-oh my God, Gar!" He skidded to his friend's side. "Gar, Gar, are you okay? Talk to me, please!"

Nothing.

"He hasn't opened his eyes yet," Adam explained. "I'm trying to help, but the wounds are too bad. I can't do anything."

"There's a first-aid kit." Bart leaned his head back and shouted, "Jaime, get down with the first-aid kit! Smoke has Gar!"

That got Jaime's attention.

"_Dios,_" he breathed, staring at the changling, the kit falling from his hand. "_Dios_, Gar." He glowered at Adam. "Can't you do anything?!"

"I...I can't. They're too bad."

Jaime sneered. "Some help you are."

"Jaime..." Bart started.

"No! Gar is in this position because of him, and he can't even do anything to help him!" With a growl, he started thumbing through the kit, muttering every so often, "Yes, I know what to do!"

Adam and Bart just watched, neither speaking, as Jaime tenderly attended to Gar's injuries. When he was finished, he leaned back on his heels and bowed his head. "This is the best I can do."

"So now what?" Bart asked softly.

"We wait," Jaime whispered, resting a hand on Gar's forehead. "We pray."

Adam believed in God only enough to hate Him, to despise Him for taking away his parents. He knew Him as only a merciless, cruel puppeteer that didn't care about anyone.

For the first time in his life, he hoped he was wrong.


	12. Chapter 12

Disclaimer: Nothing.

Chapter 11

Barbara dragged herself back to the hideout, rubbing at her temples. She had been with Artemis for the past three hours, trying to console her friend. The blonde might've put on a brave face around her teammates, but she was human, too, and she had her breaking point. Today was the three-year anniversary of the first time Wally said he loved her. And he was here to celebrate.

The redhead hadn't wanted to leave, but Artemis, crying until she had no tears left, insisted that she was fine, that she would get back to the Watchtower and get her mind on something else. And Barbara, hesitant and unsure, finally relented, both because she knew Artemis had to cope in her own way and because her team needed her.

When she walked into the building, she realized just how much they needed her.

"What happened?" she asked, practically sprinting to Garfield's side.

"Smoke transported Shadow Stalker with him," Jaime snarled. "And Shadow Stalker kidnapped Gar."

She knelt beside the teen, swathed in layers of bandages. Lowering her head, she whispered, "How did you get him back?"

"I managed to connect with Shadow Stalker's thoughts," Adam explained quietly. "Got enough of a visual to travel to his location."

"Only took you three hours," Jaime grumbled.

"Don't talk to him that way," Barbara snapped. "He's a teammate."

"He's no teammate of mine!" He jumped to his feet, hands clenched into fists. "And who are you to be telling us anything? You left us! You left us with this monster and no way to contact you!"

"You could contact me!" she protested in annoyance.

"Oh, really? You turned your cell phone off!"

Both Adam and Bart stared at her in disbelief. Her throat suddenly went very, very dry, and she tried to remember when she would have done that. In her desperation to soothe Artemis, she must have turned it off, but how could she possibly have forgotten doing that.

"Jaime, I'm, I'm sorry-"

"You're sorry?!" he exploded. "You abandoned us! You're supposed to lead us and you didn't! I can't _believe _Nightwing left you in charge!"

He might have well as slapped her.

"Don't you _dare_ say that! I'm doing the best I can in this situation. Forgive me for not knowing exactly what to do!"

"Maybe you could have, gee, I don't know, had a better fricking plan that attack a secret lair without any backup!" He gestured to Garfield. "Because maybe then _this _wouldn't have happened!"

"Guys, screaming at each other isn't going to help," Adam objected, stepping in the middle. "We need to stay calm."

"Oh, yes, let the guy in the make-shift costume guide us. Brilliant!" He sneered at Barbara. "Top-notch group we have here, all-mighty leader."

"Stop it!" she barked, fighting every urge to slap him, to silence the truth. "I'm still your leader, and if you don't respect that, then you can-"

"What? Quit?" The laugh sounded sardonic. "Because we've barely gotten by with five, and now we've dropped down to four!" He took a breath, and suddenly the anger was replaced by sorrow and fear. "Look at him! He's barely even breathing; he's _hurt_ so badly. What are we supposed to do?"

"We'll figure this out," she promised softly, reaching out to rest her hands on his shoulders.

He jerked from her touch and shook his head. Tears broke free. "Don't give me that! Heroes die! Look at Tula, at Jason, damn it, look at _Wally_. We're not immortal, so stop pretending that we are!"

"I'm not pretending, but I'm not counting Gar out of the fight yet. We just have to re-group, that's all. Keep our cool. Adam, I want you to try to heal his wounds."

"I've tried that." The seventeen-year-old, having watched the exchange with wide-eyed disbelief, seemed uncertain of whether or not he should even speak. "But they're too bad, too deep."

"Try again," she insisted. "We have no other option. Bart-" She turned her attention to the couch, where the speedster had been sitting, but he was no longer there. "Where did Bart go? Did anyone see him leave?" She covered her face with her hand and tried to calm herself.

_"Seriously, Barbara, you have to get traught." A fifteen-year-old Dick flashed her a smile. "These breathing exercises are totally worth it."_

_ She huffed and rolled her eyes. "Yeah, right."_

_ He cackled. "You will listen to me one of these days, Barbara Gordon."_

_ "First you'll have to be right one of these days, Dick Grayson."_

She missed those days. When Dick was still Robin and she was new enough to make mistakes and no one had died and the weight of the world wasn't on their shoulders. And it hurt so much to be this way now, to have taken so much and to be so broken by it all, to have to keep fighting when there just wasn't any fight left.

When she returned to the present, Jaime was gone, too.

Her mouth dropped open in shock. "Adam, where did Jaime go?"

"He stormed out. I, I tried to stop him, I really did-"

"It's fine, Adam. Can you just, go upstairs for a little? I need some time to think."

"Yeah. Yeah, sure."

After he was gone, Barbara sat down on the couch and stared at Garfield. His chest barely rose and fell. He needed medical attention.

And Barbara, who had stuck to the rules, had never done anything to put her hero career in jeopardy, broke the most important of all.

She took him to the Batcave.


	13. Chapter 13

Disclaimer: Nope

Chapter 12

Jaime walked down the sidewalk, eyes glued to the ground, thoughts consumed with everything that had happened.

_You are troubled, Jaime Reyes_.

"Oh, you think? Just because one of my best friends got the crap beaten out of him and there's a psychopath still on the loose."

_You feel guilty_.

He snorted in annoyance. "No. It's Smoke's stupid fault for bringing Shadow Stalker with him."

_You still feel guilty._

"Shut up!"

_Running away will not make you feel better._

"I said, shut up!"

_You are upset that the changeling is hurt and you were unable to protect him. Like you were unable to protect him and the speedster when the three of you were captured._

He growled quietly but slowed his pace.

_But what, Jaime, will running away do? No matter how far you go, the changeling will still be hurt, and the _diablo_, as you call him, will still be a threat. You must return and face the situation head-on. It will only cause more damage if you fail to address the situation._

"When did you become Yoda?" he grumbled, turning around.

_I do not understand the reference. But since you are taking my advice, I will assume it is a compliment._

When he returned, Garfield was no longer on the couch. Assuming he'd been moved upstairs, Jaime climbed the steps only to see Smoke, head against a bedroom door. "Look, please, Bart. Come out."

"He's still in there?"

He whirled around. "Yeah. He won't open up. He won't even talk to me."

"Where's Garfield?"

"Batgirl took him somewhere. Said she knew someone who could help him."

Jaime bit back a response; no matter what he said when he was angry, he did trust in Barbara and her ability to lead them.

Smoke rubbed the back of his neck. "Um...I...I'm really sorry. About everything. I've really screwed up. It's just...I mean..."

"Look, it's okay, Smoke," Jaime interrupted. "You're new to all of this. And it's not like you brought Shadow Stalker here on purpose. Plus, you're the one who got Gar back. So we're cool."

"Really?"

"Really."

The older boy grinned. "Cool. But, um, does that mean you could call me Adam instead of Smoke?"

Adam? Right, that's what Barbara had called him. "Uh, yeah. Totally." He glanced at the closed door. "Has he said anything?"

"Just 'Go away' once. But that was it."

Jaime sighed and rested a hand on the door. "Bart, please come out. We're going to figure all of this out, okay?"

Nothing.

"Listen, Bart, the Scarab is really pressuring me to use the sonic cannon, and I might just have to give in."

_I have not advised such actions._

The door opened a crack. Green eyes peeped through the small space. "What?"

"C'mon, hermano, you can't just lock yourself up in there. Please come out."

"Is Gar any better?"

Jaime and Adam shared a look. "Batgirl took him somewhere. To help him."

He took a hesitant step out. "Where?"

"We, we're not really sure. But it's her, Bart; she knows what she's doing."

He just nodded, kept his concentration on the floor. Jaime hesitantly placed his hands on the younger boy's shoulders, and Bart took that as an invitation for a hug.

"I'm just so scared of him dying like Wally I don't want to lose him I can't he's like my best friend and I don't want anything to happen to him," he whispered, body trembling.

"I know," Jaime murmured. "I know. But this is Garfield. He'll pull through."

"Guys!" A door slammed from downstairs. "Guys, come here!"

The three obeyed the commands. Batgirl stood by the couch, a triumphant look on her face. "Gar's starting to wake up," she explained. "He's still really out of it, but he's coming to. And I'm sure he'd want to see you."

Adam and Jaime exchanged a high-five, and Bart shouted, "Crash! Where is he?"

"The Batcave."

His mouth dropped. "The Batcave? We're going to the Batcave? Sweet!"

"This is a one-time thing," she insisted. "And no one else can ever know. Alright? Adam, you can travel by the zeta-tube with us; I hooked you up as an authorized guest. Now, I want you all to give him his space, okay? And we have to focus on a new plan to take on Shadow Stalker. So let's move out."

She led them down the street. Jaime, gathering his courage, kept at her side. "About what I said early...I'm really sorry. It was totally out of line. You're...you're a great leader."

It was the first time he'd ever seen a Bat get caught off-guard. "Thanks, Jaime. That means a lot." She flashed a grin. "Now let's figure out how to take this monster down."

The Batcave was the most amazing thing he'd ever seen, but everything was just the background when he found Gar, attempting to sit up on a medical table.

"Gar!" The speedster rushed to his side and started jumping up and down, as though that were a substitute for hugging him. "Dude, you're okay!"

"'Course I am," he said. Even with swollen lips, he smiled at his friends.

"You had us so worried," Jaime murmured. "Hermanito, don't scare us like that!"

"If you scare that easily, maybe the hero business isn't for you."

"Alright, alright, enough bantering." Barbara stepped in the middle. "Right now, we really have to focus on Shadow Stalker."

"Noted." Gar sat up a little straighter. "He mentioned that he was moving the emeralds. That he was coming back for the last one."

"Well, that's not happening," Barbara protested. "That emerald is perfectly secure. As for the others...Adam, you said you connected with his thoughts before?"

"Yeah. It was hard, but I managed."

"If you can do that again, we might be able to find that new location. And since he doesn't know this development in your powers, that will give us the element of surprise."

"But we have to know that Shadow Stalker won't surprise us right back," Jaime pointed out. "He needs to be kept distracted."

"I'll do it," Adam volunteered.

"Let's not jump to anything yet," Barbara objected. "We need to make this foolproof. I am not risking anything."

Gar brought his knees to his chest at that statement.

"I could go with him," Bart offered. "While you and Jaime destroy the other emeralds."

Barbara nodded slowly. "Okay. We're sure about this?"

"Absolutely," Bart and Adam agreed.

"Then let's do this."


	14. Chapter 14

Disclaimer: Nothing.

Chapter 13

Bart took a deep breath and turned to Adam. "So this is it?" he asked with a wavering smile.

The older boy nodded. "This is it."

It had taken some time, but Adam had managed to determine the location of both the emeralds and Shadow Stalker. Jaime and Barbara had taken the closest zeta-beam transporter, leaving the speedster and the telekinetic to take on the beast of a man.

"Good luck," Garfield rasped, stirring uncomfortably in his seat.

"Won't need it," Bart protested with a confidence he didn't feel.

"Back in no time," Adam added. He took Bart's hand and closed his eyes,

Thought travel was one of the weirdest things Bark ever experienced. It wasn't like zeta travel, breaking apart and coming back together; this was moving through syrup, pulled through space and the deep, dark unconscious of the world. And when they landed, he felt weak, knees almost buckling under his weight.

That was not a good position to be in when facing Shadow Stalker.

"Well, well, well," he mused, towering over the two teens. "How lovely to see you. Where are your little friends?"

"Trying to heal Beast Boy," Kid Flash growled, balling his hands into fists just at the thought of this injured teammate.

"Ah, yes, the changeling. I must congratulate you on finding him." He turned to Smoke. "Your doing, I assume. Your powers are growing quite impressively." Fire danced on his fingertips. "Not as impressive as mine, of course. And seeing how tedious this game has gotten, I won't engage in witty banter. Simply give me the final emerald, and I will grant you a quick death."

"Yeah, like we came this far to give up."

He glanced at Kid. "Speedster, your confidence is both amusing and inconceivable. You stand no chance against me. It's a waste of time for all involved." He cracked his neck. "But if you insist..."

The flames came bursting forward. Kid dodged, only to be swiped by the claws.

"You cannot outrun me," Shadow Stalker jeered, delivering a kick to his stomach. Crimson stained the yellow.

As he sprawled to a stop, he watched the villain turn on Smoke. "Your powers may have gotten stronger, but so have mine. I've figured out how to block your telekinesis." He sent a wave of flames outward; Smoke barely jumped out of the way. "You are no threat against me, no more than your sister was. How is she, by the way? So insensitive of me, to not have been asking about her. Is she dead yet? Or is she still clinging to life? I know that blow to her head must have caused _some _trauma." He chuckled darkly. "What a brave big brother you are, abandoning that sweet little thing."

Smoke gritted his teeth and charged, but without his powers to weaken Shadow Stalker, he was at the monster's mercy. His makeshift weapons bounced off without any effect, and one punch sent him sprawling.

_C'mon, get up_, Kid thought fiercely. _Wally wouldn't just be lying here!_

He got to his feet and slammed into Shadow Stalker, only to rebound and fall to the floor.

"Your persistence is no longer admirable, only annoying." Shadow Stalker raised a fiery fist over the thirteen-year-old.

Bart jumped to his feet and sped away, expecting the attack to still hit him. To his surprise, each blast was several feet behind him.

"What is this?" Shadow Stalker snarled. The next few waves of flames were weaker than before. "What is happening?"

"What, getting weaker?" Smoke demanded with a sneer. "Not so strong now, huh?"

An inhuman growl rumbled from his throat. "The emeralds!"

"That's right, Stalker." Kid whirled around, a roundhouse kick cracking his jaw. "Your stupid little jewels are nothing but pieces now."

He roared and whirled to strike him, but he froze in place.

"So much for stronger powers," Smoke quipped, eyes locked on his opponent. "Not much now, are you? See, at least my abilities are real. Your? Fancy toys. And without the power of the emeralds, they're nothing. Sucks, doesn't it?"

"I can...still defeat you," he snarled. "Do not...get so cocky. Because...I know...your weakness." Clearly struggling, he still managed to raise his head in defiance. "I remember...quite clearly...what she looked like."

And then suddenly Smoke screamed and sank to his knees and Shadow Stalker was running toward him and Kid Flash knew what he had to do.

He interjected the attack.

The claws dug into his stomach, cutting into his wound, and he collapsed to the ground, hand flying to the now gaping hole right below his ribs. And when Shadow Stalker raised his hand, Bart just closed his eyes and waited, because he couldn't even stand, much less walk, and Adam was still in a stupor over whatever image Shadow Stalker had flashed in his mind and dying a hero's death was worth it, and he'd get to be with Wally, and it's not like anyone needed him anyone, so maybe dying wouldn't be so bad, it was worth it...

That's when a tyrannosaurus rex burst into the room.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 14

Garfield stared at the wall, hands wrapped around his knees. His injuries had been slathered with so much medicine that the pain had faded to a dull ache. Even though he had been given strict orders from Barbara to do nothing but sit and allow himself to heal, he couldn't help but wonder how his teammates were doing. Jaime and Barbara would be fine; there were henchmen to deal with, but Adam had stated there were only about ten, easy enough to deal with. Adam and Bart, though, they would have their work cut out for them. Shadow Stalker was hard enough to take when there were five of them, so only two would be one heck of a challenge, even if his powers were weakened with the shattering of the emeralds.

He reached for the tray of food Barbara had left him, but he couldn't bring himself to eat anything; his stomach was sick with anxiety, and just the thought of eating made him nauseous.

"You need to relax," he muttered to himself, repeating the instructs Barbara had left him with. "You won't get any better if you keep stressing."

But he couldn't stop himself. His teammates might have been in dangerous, and there was nothing he could do about it.

He hated this being powerless. For a thirteen-year-old, he knew the feeling all too well, ever since Queen Bee had murdered his mother. Even with the ability to morph into any animal he wanted, he couldn't even protect himself or the people around him.

Gnashing on his lower lip in frustration, he impulsively jumped off the table and headed for the exit, Shadow Stalker's location playing on loop in his mind; Adam had said his location, plus the location of the emeralds, aloud before the teams of two had left. Maybe Adam and Bart didn't need him, but he wasn't going to take that chance. If he picked a large enough morph, the wounds wouldn't affect him as much. Besides, he could battle through the pain if he needed to. There was too much as stake just to sit in the Batcave and hope for the best.

It was a quick walk to the zeta-beam transporter, but the nearest one to Shadow Stalker's location is over five miles away. As soon as he got there, he morphed into a peregrine falcon and flew to the hideout, some rundown shack in the middle of nowhere. How Shadow Stalker stumbled across this was beyond him, but without Adam, there would be no way they would've guessed it was here; it was nowhere near his estate.

He dropped to the ground and sucked in a deep breath, as though that would somehow stop the pain flaring throughout his body. Maybe this wasn't as good of an idea as he thought.

That's when he heard an inhuman roar and think time was over. Transforming into a t-rex, he ran straight into the building.

Smoke was on the ground, hands to his head, and Kid Flash was lying before Shadow Stalker, blood staining his costume. The villain glanced from his victim to stare at Beast Boy.

"So the changeling lives," he sneered. "I'm sur-"

Beast Boy was in no mood for insults; his tail slammed him into the ground. Remembering the first time they had faced him-was it really on yesterday?-he morphed into a boa constrictor and quickly threw himself at the man, wrapping his body tightly around him.

"I...will not...lose," he wheezed, and fire licked Beast Boy's scales. They were stronger and more resistant than human flesh, but it still hurt, especially when it overlapped with older damage. Flicking his tongue out in irritation, he just tightened his grip.

"Hold him, Beast Boy." Smoke, recovered, was on his feet, eyes narrowed in concentration. "Just a couple of seconds."

"You think...you...can beat...me?" Shadow Stalker tried to bark, but his voice was wavering. The flames ceased, and his eyelids fluttered. After a moment, he slumped in Beast Boy's hold.

"What'd you do?" Kid Flash asked, blinking rapidly, like he was trying to focus.

Smoke rushed to his side and placed a hand to the gashes in his side. "Put the idea of sleep in his mind. It never worked before, but since he was so weak, I figured it was worth a shot."

Kid stood, the wound mostly closed, and stared at the defeated opponent. "So...this is it? It's over?"

"Yeah, it' over." A grin broke out across Adam's face. He gathered Bart in a hug. "It's over! It's over!"

Garfield remained as a boa, not willing to risk it, until Jaime and Barbara arrived.

"Beast Boy!" the leader gasped, rushing to him. He morphed to his human form. "I told you to stay at the Cave! This was so dangerous!"

"He saved us," Bart protested quickly. "We couldn't have done it without him."

Barbara looked between the three boys, then lowered her head and tugged Garfield into an embrace. "Don't ever do something like this again," she whispered. "I'm not losing any more teammates."

"I won't," he promised. Funny, he never thought Barbara was much like Megan, but her hugs were practically the same as his sister's.

"Alright, let's get the police out here," Jaime said, nudging Shadow Stalker's head with his foot. "And send this goon to prison for life. Oh, right." He took out a handful of rugged pieces of a bright green stone. "I figured we ought to keep some of the remains of the emeralds."

"Souvenir?" Bart offered, a twinkle in his eyes.

"Souvenir," Garfield repeated with a smile.

Nothing was back to normal. Not for a long shot. But it seemed like maybe, just maybe, they were on their way.


	16. Chapter 16

Disclaimer: Nothing.

Chapter 15

Adam sat beside the hospital bed, holding on tightly to Angela's hand. It had been three weeks since Shadow Stalker's defeat, but his sister still hadn't awakened. He hadn't left her side since.

His teammates hadn't, either. After the villain was safely in police custody, Batgirl had revealed their secret to the Justice League, which hadn't taken all too kindly to the information, considering the magnitude of the threat and the damage both Bart and Garfield had obtained during the fights. Even though they were confronting the official heroes rather than him, Adam was shaking the entire time, waiting for the explosion. It never came. Coming off of a near world takeover by aliens, the adults heroes had kept their composures, leaving their younger counterparts with a warning and an offering for Smoke to join the Team on a trial basis. When he'd mentioned Angela, Batman immediately extended the invitation to her, accompanied by footing the entire hospital bill, no questions asked. And he didn't question it, this miracle, and just stammered thank you over and over and tried not to cry.

Still, Angela was in a coma, and he could not reach her, and no amount of money in the world could change that. So he waited, Batgirl, Jaime, Bart, and Garfield by his side.

Jaime and Bart were asleep, Bart's head on Jaime's shoulder. Batgirl was stretched out in her seat, staring at the still form, as though that would somehow make her wake up. Garfield was curled up in his chair.

"C'mon, Angela, wake up," Adam murmured softly. "Please, princess, wake up for me." Once again, he tried to connect with her; for the first time, he saw more than just snow. Her brainwaves were stronger, more consistent with those with a conscious mind. "That's it," he whispered, not daring to believe it. "Come on, come back to me. It's safe now, remember? Shadow Stalker's gone. He can't hurt you any more. He can't hurt anyone."

She stirred.

"Did you see that?" he gasped at Batgirl. Someone else had to see it or it didn't happen, he couldn't get his hopes up.

"I did," she murmured.

"I did, too," Garfield added.

Adam squeezed her hand tighter. "C'mon, princess, please."

Her eyes stayed closed, but from her barely opened mouth came, "Don't."

"Don't what?" he pleaded. "Angela, wake up, c'mon, you can do it, please. Keep talking to me, okay? Please?"

"Don't...call...me princess," she managed, eyes opening weakly. "Jeez, I told you I hated that nickname."

"You're awake!" He gathered her tightly in his arms, forgetting the IV, forgetting her injuries, forgetting everything other than his sister being okay. "You're awake!"

"Yes, I am, and you are tearing something out of my arm!"

"Right, sorry." He dropped her back on the bed, earning a giggle from her.

She looked at him. "How long have I been out?"

"Almost a month."

"Holy crap." She looked beyond him, and her eyes widened. "Who are they?"

He followed her eyes. His four teammates were on their feet, keeping a respectful distance. "Oh, right, should probably explain. Batgirl, Blue Beetle, Kid Flash, and Beast Boy. They helped us defeat Shadow Stalker."

"Yeah. It's what we do." Bart swaggered forward and rested an elbow on her nightstand. "And you can call me Bart. Kid Flash is _so _official."

She laughed. "Alright, Bart. You helped keep my brother out of trouble?"

"Of course. All in a day's work."

"Ahem." Garfield squeezed his way between Angela and Bart. "_I_ was the one who brought down Shadow Stalker, if we're being technical." He flashed her a smile. "And you can call me Garfield."

"Like the fat cat," Bart interjected. Gar sent him a glare.

As the boys continued vying for her attention, Jaime chuckled softly. "Seems we have a new battle on our hands."

Batgirl nodded and wrapped her arms around his and Adam's shoulders. "Yeah, but this one, I think we can handle."

Adam took in the scene, surrounded by people who cared about him. He sent a quick prayer of thanks and murmured, "Definitely."


End file.
